


Make Me...

by justthehiddles



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Long-Distance Relationship, Oral Sex, Sex, Sexting, Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, tom's blue sweater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 05:13:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21238730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justthehiddles/pseuds/justthehiddles
Summary: Tom takes off for a month of filming and can't find his favorite blue sweater.  Reader finds it at home but instead of sending it along, she decides to have a little fun.  What will Tom do when he comes home?





	Make Me...

“Damn it!” Tom cursed as he threw clothes around the room. He cursed again when he reached the bottom of the suitcase. “I swore I packed it!” 

He grabbed his phone and punched in the number. You stepped out of the shower to hear your phone ring. You smiled at the name on the screen. 

“Hi, honey. I thought you weren’t calling me until tomorrow.” you cooed into the phone as you wrapped a towel around you.

“That was the plan. Have you seen my blue sweater lying around?” Tom snipped into the phone.

“Which blue sweater?”

“Ha, ha. Very funny. You know which blue sweater, darling. The Smeadley one.”

You furrowed your brows at his tone. You know Tom is particular about his clothes, but you didn’t appreciate him snapping at you. “No, I haven’t.”

“Well, will you keep an eye out for it, darling, and send it my way. I would appreciate it.”

His pleading tone softened your poor mood a bit. 

“Sure, honey—”  
“Fantastic, love. I will call you tomorrow. This place is a mess.” Tom interrupted. 

“Okay.” you said back, your mood returning at Tom’s interruption. 

“Love you.”

“You too.”

Tom hung up the phone, and you tossed the phone onto the bed. You moved to the closet to get dressed for the day. As you pulled a dress off a hanger, you glanced at the floor of Tom’s side. A tangle of shirts and pants covered the closet floor. You scoffed.

“Just once you could pick up after you pack?” you groused to no one in particular. As you pick up the discarded articles of clothing. At the bottom of the pile, you found a navy blue sweater. Tom’s sweater. 

“Well, look what we have here.” you smirked as you picked the sweater up. You held the blue knit up to your face and inhaled the scent of Tom. The sweater smelled soft and masculine, citrus and woods. You placed the dress in your hand back on the hanger. You pulled Tom’s sweater on and looked in the mirror. The sweater was a bit oversized on you but it looked good. You pulled on a pair of jeans and some boots. You grabbed your keys and headed out the door for a day of errands.

-

As Tom sat on the set, he flicked through photos on his phone. He avoided social media as a general rule, but when he was away on set, he always peeked at your social media. He smiled as he watched you laughing and smiling back in London. His smile faded as his eyes scanned the photos.

“That little minx!” he muttered under his breath as he closed out Instagram and pulled up his messaging app up.

_Anything you would like to tell me, darling?_

Tom stared down at his phone waiting and willing your response and expected apology.

_I don’t know what you are talking about? I love you. Miss you. Can’t wait to see you in three weeks. :heart emoji:_

Tom frowned at the screen. 

_That is not what I meant. Are you wearing my sweater? My favorite sweater? The sweater you swore you couldn’t find?_

Tom’s eyes bored holes through the phone as he studied the three dots moving off to the side. Someone repeating his name interrupted his stare down. He looked up to discover a production assistant looking at him.

“They are ready for you, Mr. Hiddleston.” her meek voice asked and her eyes pleading.

Tom snapped the phone off without seeing your response and stood, straightening his costume.

“Of course.” he gestured behind her. “Lead the way.”

She smiled and hopped around to take Tom to set.

-

As you settled down to eat lunch, your phone vibrated in your pocket. You pulled it out as you shoveled a big bite of chicken into your mouth. You smiled to see Tom texted you. 

_Anything you would like to tell me, darling?_

Your brows furrowed at the loaded question looming on the screen. What did he mean? You typed your response, hopeful Tom would provide more information. 

_I don’t know what you are talking about? I love you. Miss you. Can’t wait to see you in three weeks. :heart emoji: _

You continued to eat chicken and veggies as you saw the dots moving on your screen, waiting for Tom’s response. Your lips curled into a devious smirk when his text came through.

_That is not what I meant. Are you wearing my sweater? My favorite sweater? The sweater you swore you couldn’t find?!_

Ah, he has been trolling your Instagram account. You intended on wearing his sweater just the one day and then sending it along. But the sweater was so damn comfortable. So you kept it, wearing it more and more. You didn’t even consider Tom spying it on social media. But now you couldn’t resist taunting him. 

You ran upstairs and threw the sweater on before taking a selfie.

_You mean my sweater? :winking emoji: I found this discarded on the floor of our closet. Abandoned by its previous owner. :crying emoji: But not to worry I gave it a good home._

You giggled as you pushed the send button, tossing the phone to the side. You half expected Tom to call you but the phone set in silence. You snatched it back up and headed back downstairs to finish your lunch.

-

Several hours passed before Tom got back to his trailer and read his notifications. He saw you responded not long after he went to shoot his scenes. His smile dropped from his face at your message. 

_You mean my sweater? :winking emoji: I found this discarded on the floor of our closet. Abandoned by its previous owner. :crying emoji: But not to worry I gave it a good home. _

Tom hated to admit the sweater accentuated your curves in a way that made his trousers tighter than usual. He pulled at them as he typed with one handed.

_Not fair play, darling. Lying to me. You’ll pay for that when I get back._

Within minutes, Tom received another notification. His eyes bugged out at the latest photo. You stood there, still wearing his sweater, but you had pulled it down and angled the camera. Your text caused the corners of Tom’s mouth to curl into a smile.

_Make me._

-

Tom responded to your photo about when you sat down for dinner. 

“Since when do we ever play fair?!” you exclaimed as you read Tom’s message. Your hands disappeared underneath the blue sweater and within moments you pulled out a nude lace bra, plopping it on the counter. You pulled on the hem, the neckline teasing at your collarbones. You took a couple of shots before taking a peek.

“We can do better,” you tsked as you flicked through the shots. You took a different angle, leaning over a bit. “Much better.” you noted as you selected one to send to Tom. 

_Make me._

You smirked as you put the phone down on the table and started preparing dinner for yourself.

-

The next three weeks was a texting tennis match between you and Tom. He would send photos of pretending to cry over his purloined sweater. While you countered with more and more lurid poses of you in various states of undress, save for your newly acquired sweater. Tom found nights in his hotel room growing more weary as his hand a poor excuse for what he needed, nay wanted, after seeing your pictures all day, every day. 

The last day of shooting arrived and Tom couldn’t wait to get home, even going as far as asking Luke to book him on an earlier flight back to Heathrow. For once, his flight landed on time and traffic cooperated. He arrived at your shared home just in time to intercept the food delivery guy.

“May I take that please?” Tom inquired as he tapped the young man on the shoulder. The poor man jumped about two feet, bobbling the food containers.

“AH!” 

“I am so sorry. I live here and would like to take the food inside. What do I owe you?”

The delivery man muttered out a number. Tom paid him, giving him a generous tip. The man handed the bags over and scooted down the stairs and back to his bike. Tom adjusted his jacket before hopping up the last few stairs and knocking on the door. 

“How much do I… Tom!” you screamed as you opened the door. You lept into his arms, planting kisses on his face before kiss him on his lips. You pulled Tom into the house while he shut the door behind you. 

Tom spun you around and pushed you against the door, his tongue insistent and his hands pulling you closer. As his hands traveled down from your neck to your shoulders, he pulled away as his hands settled on your hips. 

“Is that my sweater?” he asked turned his face as you tried to kiss him again.

“I presume you abandoned this sweater. It’s my sweater now.” You pulled the hem out lifting it to show off your lacy cheeky panties. 

“Stop trying to distract me, Y/N. I am back here to claim what is mine.” He tugged at the neck, pulling the top away from your body. 

You twirled out of Tom’s grasp and headed for the stairs. “You and what army?” You snipped over your shoulder before sauntering up the stairs, hips swaying.

Tom lunged at you, grabbing you tight around the waist. He lifted you up off your feet onto his shoulders, carrying you to the bedroom.

“Oh I have an army, darling.” Tom growled in Loki voice, sending shivers through your body. 

Tom pushed the bedroom door open with his foot and dropped you onto the bed.

“Now what you were you saying?” Tom whispered as he crawled up your body to suck on your pulse point. 

You stifled a moan before quipping back “You will have to pry this sweater off my body.” “That can be arranged.”

Tom pulled the hem of the sweater up, revealing her underwear. You tugged the sweater down, but he grabbed your wrists and pulled your arms away.

“Oh darling, you know better.” he growled into your ear as he kissed down your neck. This time you let loose a small moan. “I missed hearing those noises over these past weeks.” 

“I’ve missed you too.” you breathed as Tom shifted his grip to free one hand. His other hand continue to snake underneath the sweater. 

“I missed your kiss,” Tom recited as the sweater lifted to reveal your heaving chest. “your breasts, your lips…” he leaned down and sucked your nipple, turning it into a hard pebble. You arched your back to meet his lips. “… but most of all I missed…” you held your breath “… my sweater!” he finished as he whipped the sweater off your body and threw it over to his side of the bed.

“Not fair!” you yelled as you attempted to pull away but his grip too strong.

Tom returned his attention to your other breast. “Since when have we ever played fair, love.” 

You whined as Tom’s lips left and he stood up. He pulled off his own shirt and unzipped his jeans pushing them and his boxers to the ground. He climbed back on top of you. 

“You’re overdressed.” he tugged at the waist of your panties and you lifted your hips as Tom hooked his thumbs and pulled them down and off. 

You gasped as the cool air hit your skin and Tom placed himself between your legs; he glanced down to your core. “So wet for me.” he purred as he lowered his head. “So ready.”

You felt his breath on your inner thigh and you bit your lower lip. “Fuck, Tom.”

Tom lifted his head and smirked at you. “In due time, darling. In due time.”

You expected Tom to go straight to the main event, but he nipped up your inner thigh, stopping just before your core, letting his breath send shocks through your body. You bucked your hips, desperate for friction but Tom held your hips tight against the mattress.

“Patience, love.”

“Fuck patience, Tom, It’s been a month.” 

Tom chuckled as he lowered his head and licked a long stripe across your slit. 

“Yes!” you moaned as Tom worked up to your clit and alternated between sucking and flicking the bundle of nerves with his tongue. 

“You enjoy that?” Tom muttered.

“God, yes!”

You gasped as Tom slipped one long digit into your pussy and began to pump in and out and slow pace. As his finger curled inside with each thrust, you felt your release inching closer.

“Shit, Tom. Yes!” you gasped, reduced to single syllable words. 

“Come for me, darling.” Tom urged as he slid in a second finger. Within seconds, you pushed over the edge, clenching around Tom’s fingers, juices gushing. 

Tom pulled his fingers out, dripping.

“Care to clean up?” Tom held his fingers in front of your face. 

You smiled before taking them into your mouth. Your tongue ran over Tom’s knuckles and you licked up very last drop before he popped his fingers out.

“Obscene, darling.” Tom commented. “I loved it.”

You pulled him down into a deep kiss, Tom tasting you on your lips and you tasting yourself on his. 

“I am not going to last long with your mouth like that.”

“Fortunately, we have all night.”

Tom smiled and without further warning plunging his cock inside you. You moaned from the fullness and gripped Tom’s hips to pull him deeper.

“God, I have missed you.” Tom grunted as he began to rut into you.

“I missed you too.” you panted in between thrusts.

Tom continued to thrust, chasing his own release. You snaked your hand between the two of us. You rubbed your clit in tight circles.

“Come on…” Tom pleaded, “Come with me.”

Tom’s thrusts became more and more urgent, his hips snapping each time. You pressed a little harder, seeking your own orgasm. 

“Fuck!” Tom yelled as he came, spilling inside you.

“Yes!” you followed just moments later.

Tom collapsed onto of you for a few minutes, chest heaving and breath laboring. He rolled over to lie down beside you. He pushed the hair off your forehead and placed a soft kiss on your temple.

“I think I am going to need a bit of rest before Round 2, love.”

“Well, we left food downstairs…” 

“Perfection.”

“I’ll go get it.”

You sat up and walked over to his side of the bed to pick up your underwear. You pulled them on.

“Do you want chicken or beef?” you asked as you slipped a top on.

“Either is…” Tom answered as he opened his eyes to look at you. “Isn’t that my sweater?”

“I told you…” you said as you spun in the doorway. “This is my sweater and you will pry this sweater from my cold dead body. Buy a new one.”

You stared Tom down for a moment before he lept from the bed. You ran from the room as Tom tugged on his boxers, intent on taking back what was rightful his.


End file.
